an age of anchors (a salute to rust and the afterlife continuum)

walden freeman

communication is overrated and so is overrating things. of course through the alleyways and caught in the cul' de sacs of modern societies so well-lit and yet still incredibly gloomy bark the hounds of hells so hot that boiling magma evaporates into an endless trillion electric and searing gnats each with a lust for revenge and an exponentially greater loathing for cold dishes such as revenge and superfluous ice cream flavors. nay, say the politicians, their thumbs down. but you, you and i know that inside each unhatched eggshell and behind every piece of bark on every tree in this humble forest lies an unanswered anthemic prayer sung in whispers to a nation of crickets sleeping through their alarms . . .